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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25376050">Pseudonymously Yours</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertScribe/pseuds/DesertScribe'>DesertScribe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Triple Drabble</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:48:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>300</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25376050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertScribe/pseuds/DesertScribe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Brisco and Bowler are hired to protect N. L. Scrimshaw, author of the wildly popular dime novel series, <i>The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.</i>, but they'll have to find him first.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Multifandom Drabble 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pseudonymously Yours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DownToTheSea/gifts">DownToTheSea</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Some criminals had taken offence at how they were portrayed in the <i>Adventures of Brisco County Jr.</i> dime novels, by one N. L. Scrimshaw, and had started making threats.</p>
<p>Since nobody seemed to know who or where Scrimshaw really was, the publishers took the brunt of it.  They hired Brisco and Bowler to protect them and their biggest moneymaker and directed the duo to Scrimshaw's lawyer: a familiar face but also, unfortunately, a dead end.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, Brisco," Socrates said, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else at the moment, "I want to help, but between attorney-client privilege and the nondisclosure agreement I signed, legally I can't tell you anything."</p>
<p>"You could look the other way while we ransack your files," Bowler suggested.</p>
<p>"What?" Socrates spluttered, clearly offended.  "No!"</p>
<p>"What he means is, 'sorry to bother you; we'll try elsewhere,'" Brisco said, pushing Bowler out the office door.</p>
<p>"You don't think Poole writes that trash himself, do you?" Bowler mused as they returned to the publishers.</p>
<p>"Can't be," Brisco said.  "Soc can only write in lawyer-ese, even his shopping lists."</p>
<p>The publishers had one last lead to offer.</p>
<p>"He dictates his manuscripts to us by private telegraph line," the editor admitted.  There was no record of who installed it or where the other end was, but they simply needed to follow it to find out.</p>
<p>The telegraph cable meandered through San Francisco, all the way to…</p>
<p>…a backroom of the Horseshoe Club.</p>
<p>"You could have asked, Brisco," Ellie said when she caught him picking the lock.</p>
<p>"<em>You're</em> the author, Ellie?"</p>
<p>"Just his landlord," she said, unlocking the door to reveal a small room, empty save for a telegraph setup on the bare floor.</p>
<p>Bowler examined the scuffed wood.  "I know those hoofmarks," he snarled.  "Comet has some explaining to do!"</p>
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